


She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done Deleted Scene: Dr. Pemberley Freaks Out

by sagansjagger



Series: She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Light Angst, Other, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/pseuds/sagansjagger
Summary: Dr. Laura S. Pemberley did not sign up for this.Therapy for Adrien Agreste was supposed to be cut and dried. Rich, sheltered, young adult with parental issues. Easy peasy, right?That was before Dr. Pemberley realized he was Chat Noir.Chat Noir, one of the only people standing between the people of Paris and a megalomaniac who preyed on their emotions.Chat Noir, Ladybug's shield, who had died for her and would die again.Chat Noir, a 16-year-old boy with abandonment issues, a lack of boundaries, and a low self-worth. Her patient, Adrien Agreste.Holycrap.---A deleted scene fromAnd He's Gotta be Fresh from the Fight, the third work of theSpark series, where Dr. Pemberley, therapist of Paris, has a freak out after realizing who her patient is.Can be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Original Female Character(s), Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & his therapist
Series: She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710568
Comments: 30
Kudos: 125





	She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done Deleted Scene: Dr. Pemberley Freaks Out

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after chapter 35 of [And He's Gotta be Fresh from the Fight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273268/chapters/58502071) and before Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, the next part of the [Spark series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710568), begins.

At first, Dr. Pemberley suspected.

She read the Ladyblog. She’d often speculated over coffee with the other therapists in her office as to whom the masked heroes could be. She just never thought she’d be treating one of them.

It was the little things that twigged her subconscious awareness. The way Chat Noir was a young, blond teenage boy about Adrien’s height, 15 or 16 at the most. The way Chat and Adrien both carried themselves. Chat’s low self-worth, given his desperation to be praised by Ladybug and his shocked reactions whenever she indulged him.

Chat’s apparently constant need for attention, affection, and validation. Chat’s inability to respect boundaries, based on his kissing Ladybug in public and having to clarify that they weren’t dating in a later Ladyblog interview. And Chat’s intense fear of abandonment, which Adrien clearly shared. 

All of which pointed towards issues with his father.

Even the gifts Chat Noir had bought for Ladybug--an Eiffel Tower pendant and a cherry blossom ring, according to the Ladyblog--seemed like something Adrien would have picked out, being a sappy kid.

Then, in today’s session, Adrien had practically thrown the last piece of evidence in Dr. Pemberley’s lap.

“Hahahaha, nooooo, why would Salad have something to do with akumas?” he’d said, when she’d asked about whether Salad, his codeword for secrets that he couldn’t tell anyone, had something to do with akumas. “I’m not fighting akumas.”

She hadn’t mentioned fighting them at all. 

Unlocking her apartment’s door, Dr. Laura S. Pemberley staggered inside, holding her head. A massive stress migraine had built up over her drive home from the office. 

She flicked the light switch on in the living room and groaned as the light stabbed into her eyeballs. Squinting against the brightness, she turned it off. She could fumble around in the dark; her apartment was always spotless, so there shouldn’t be any shoes or anything to trip over.

Speaking of shoes… She kicked her heels off, leaving them on the floor to pick up in the morning. Her apartment was always spotless… but not tonight.

No, tonight she needed a good, long freak out and a hard, strong drink.

“I did not sign up for this, Adrien Agreste!” she shouted into the dark, frowning at the way her voice bounced off the tastefully-decorated white walls and twigged the pain in her head. 

Her old cat wound its way around her ankles and meowed pitifully at her, begging to be fed. Dr. Pemberley reached down to stroke the animal, running her fingers down his spine and along the tip of his tail. 

“Okay, Laura,” Dr. Pemberley said to herself, picking her way through her living room towards her kitchen. She rounded the corner and approached the counter, only to press her palms to the cool granite. “You’re treating Chat Noir. _Chat Noir._ How does that make you feel?”

Talking to oneself was a powerful therapeutic tool, one of the best personal growth and self-help techniques out there. Dr. Pemberley knew this. But she still felt silly addressing herself aloud.

She’d feel even sillier addressing her cat, Grounding Exercise, like she normally did, given her patient was _a cat-themed superhero._ “Oh. gosh,” Dr. Pemberley said, pressing her hand to her aching head. “I’m treating Chat Noir.”

A frenzied giggle bubbled up from her chest and erupted past her lips. “Ohhhh, Laura, you need a drink.”

Grounding Exercise mewled at her feet, having followed her into the kitchen. “Okay, okay, I’ll get you some food. Just be patient. Do you think Chat Noir is patient when Marinette feeds him six days a week? I bet he’s not.”

Dr. Pemberley opened the cabinet and retrieved the cat food. Finding the cat bowl right where it was supposed to be, Dr. Pemberley opened the tin and tapped the container on the edge of the bowl, dumping the cat food into the bowl with a wet _schlump_. She sighed, washed out the tin, and recycled it, gritting her teeth against the agony throbbing all across the left side of her head.

Momentary distraction done, Dr. Pemberley crossed to her wine rack. She took one look at the unassuming bottles resting in the rack and decided she needed something stronger. “Scotch on the rocks it is.”

Nearly tripping over Grounding Exercise in the dark, Dr. Pemberley decided to turn on the light on the oven’s exhaust hood. She cursed as the light assaulted her eyes. “Better than a broken ankle, Laura. You can deal.”

Locating a tumbler in an upper cabinet and her single malt scotch whiskey under the sink, Dr. Pemberley added three chilled whiskey stones and one ice cube to the glass. She uncapped the alcohol and slowly poured the amber liquid over the cold stones, and then took a drink straight from the bottle, choking on the smokiness of the neat whiskey. She set the bottle aside.

“Drinking on a Tuesday night?” she said, lifting the glass to peer at the pretty beverage in the light of the oven’s range. “What have you come to, Laura Pemberley?”

She had work in the morning. She had patients to attend to. Consuming alcohol would probably make her headache worse and upset her sleep.

Dr. Pemberley decided she didn’t care. She was _treating Chat Noir._ She sipped at the scotch.

Leaning on the kitchen counter, facing away from the light, Dr. Pemberley stared into her glass, close to sobbing at the migraine and for other reasons. “You were meant to treat a rich, blond kid with parental issues, Laura. Now he’s a superhero and a hoarder and has emotional trauma from suffering starvation. This was supposed to be so cut and dry.”

Dr. Pemberley cackled. “I bet the puns are a defense mechanism.”

She shut the oven light off and staggered back to the living room, collapsing on the couch and tucking her legs up underneath her. Grounding Exercise jumped up into her lap, and Dr. Pemberley scratched behind his ears. “And I’ll just bet Adrien uses the supersuit to escape his cold, lonely house and all the issues he faces there. Who wouldn’t want to be a superhero with a life like his?”

She sighed, pressing the cool tumbler to her cheek. “I know who Ladybug is. And you do, too, Adrien, you idiot. ‘Marinette is Salad.’ Of _course_ she is.”

Dr. Pemberley winced as Grounding Exercise kneaded her thighs with his claws. “Adrien… You’ve put yourself at risk for Paris so many times. You’re Ladybug’s shield, aren’t you?”

Adrien had bounced in his seat in her office. “I love her, Dr. Pemberley. I truly do. I would die for her.”

“You already have!” Dr. Pemberley shouted, grimacing at the prickling spasm in the left side of her head. Her cat leapt off her lap and onto the floor. She couldn’t help but start to weep then. “Oh, gosh… He’s sixteen, and he’s already _died_.”

Dr. Pemberley blubbered, her tears coming thick and fast and dripping into her drink. She sucked down the alcohol, wishing the blood in her veins would be replaced by the firewater. 

After a few self-indulgent moments of crying, Dr. Pemberley scrubbed a hand over her face. “Okay, Laura. You’re the adult in this situation. He’s a teenager. And he needs your help. Calm down and focus on how you’re going to approach this problem.”

She drew a steadying breath through her snot-blocked nose. “Okay. Okay. So you’re treating Chat Noir. What does that mean?”

Dr. Pemberley drained her drink and set the empty glass aside on her coffee table. “He’s just like any other patient with complex, layered problems. He’ll have unique traumas from facing akumas, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

She set her legs onto the floor and jiggled her knee, allowing herself to feel all the jittery nerves she had to suppress during sessions with her patients. “I’d be shocked if he didn’t have PTSD, just like most people who deal with akumas on a regular basis.”

As she spoke, her words tumbled out of her in a rush, as if she couldn’t say them fast enough. “So what can I do in a therapeutic relationship and position of authority? I can help him take into account all the things that were beyond his control, so he can move forward, understanding and accepting that what Hawkmoth does is not Adrien’s fault.” 

She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes in an attempt to soothe the tender aches in her head and her heart. “I can build up his self-esteem and confidence. I can encourage him to open up about the challenges he’s faced in battle.”

Dr. Pemberley opened her eyes slowly, staring at her hardwood floor. “I can help him recognize how performative his Chat persona is.” She licked her lips. “I can help him realize that he is worthy of love and affection. And I can help him address his issues with his father, which is what brought Adrien to me in the first place.”

She drew a breath through her nose. “I can help him. I can help Chat Noir.”

Treatment plan in place, Dr. Pemberley sagged against the couch, the tension flowing out of her like water. She almost laughed again, but stopped herself, knowing that any laughter that would leave her lips at the moment would have a slightly-hysterical edge to it. She tamped down the wild feelings and stood from the couch, feeling liquid courage coursing through her bloodstream. 

“Come on, Laura,” she told herself. “Go to bed. Things will look better in the morning.”

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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